The Forging of the Bonds

Chapter 23. History of War.

Mike usually liked the winter, as long as it wasn't too cold. But this time, the new year began with a sudden drop in temperature, and most students either didn't go to Hogsmeade this weekend, or stayed inside the cafes drinking warm Butterbeer. But Potter had promised he'd start answering some questions about the past, and so Mike and Elizabeth were standing outside, waiting.

"How did you know what to do in the first task?" she asked.

"What?"

"The boat. It wasn't your first time handling a rudder."

"No. My grandparents--on my mother's side--are Muggles. They own a yacht, and I've gone sailing with them every summer. So, yeah, I know how to handle a rudder, sails, and all that. Never thought it'd come in handy here."

"Good morning, Miss Malfoy," Professor Potter said. "Mr. Weasley."

"Professor," Mike said.

They moved down past the ships, until they reached the end of the street. There, in the middle of the road, stood an enormous white slab of marble. Potter stopped next to it.

"Now," he said, "what is the most boring class you have?"

Mike was tempted to joke and say "Defense Against the Dark Arts", but didn't.

"History of Magic, of course," Elizabeth said. Mike nodded in agreement.

"I'm not surprised," Potter said. "Nothing's changed since I was here. Certainly not Professor Binns. However," he continued, raising his finger, "history shouldn't be boring."

"Then why--"

"Because Professor Binns prefers lecturing you on goblin rebellions from centuries ago," Potter said. "He was the same when I went here.

"And that's not why we study history at all. We study it so we can learn from past mistakes.

"I won't tell you that there's nothing to be learned from goblin rebellions," Potter continued. "But some events have had a little more impact on our lives than them. Events such as the first and second Voldemort wars.

"And the best way to learn history--and I mean really learn, not memorize--is to recognize how strongly connected things are." He turned to the white slab. "Do you know what this is?"

Both of them shook their heads.

Potter sighed. "It is a memorial to the victims of the Voldemort wars," he said. "All their names are on it."

"But... it's blank," Mike protested.

Potter drew his wand and tapped the block. Immediately, a name appeared, as if engraved.

Jonathan McKinnon.

"Ex-Minister of Magic," Potter said. "Voldemort was probably afraid he'd mount an effective opposition."

He tapped the rock again. McKinnon's name disappeared, replaced by two others.

Fabian Prewett.

Gideon Prewett.

"Your great-uncles," he told Mike. "Among the first members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Elizabeth glanced at Mike, then sighed. "Probably none of my relatives--"

"You'd be surprised, Miss Malfoy," Potter replied, and tapped the rock again.

Edward Bones.

Samantha Parkinson Bones.

Elizabeth gasped. "You can't--"

Potter nodded. "Your great-aunt and uncle. Both are still remembered among the Aurors--even today."

"Aurors?" Elizabeth asked.

Potter smiled. "I told you you'd be surprised."

"Nice to know my family isn't full of Death Eaters."

"I can name only one real Death Eater in your family, Miss Malfoy," Potter said. He tapped the rock again.

Frank Longbottom.

Alice Sanders Longbottom.

"Kate's--"

"Grandparents," Potter confirmed. "They weren't killed, but their lives were taken from them. They spent forty years at St. Mungo's, insane, unable to remember who they were."

Both Mike and Elizabeth were horrified. "Now," Potter said, "I might get in trouble for showing you this." He tapped at the rock.

Gerald McGonagall.

Mike considered the name. Elizabeth, however, simply gasped. "Professor McGonagall's--"

"Husband," he said.

"Eew!" Elizabeth blurted out. "She's like, what, a hundred?"

"A hundred and eight, actually," Potter said, and grinned. "She was younger back then."

"Did they have any children?" Mike asked.

"Not as far as I know," Potter answered. "Maybe you should ask her yourself."

Elizabeth laughed. Mike shuddered uncomfortably, despite having no intention to ever do as Potter suggested.

He drew their attention to the wall and tapped it again. Two more names appeared.

James Potter.

Lily Evans Potter.

The professor did not say anything at this point. Mike understood. There was no point in asking who these people were. It was obvious.

After a while, Potter tapped the block, and the names of his parents faded. "I can tell you very little about these people," he said. "I never knew any of them. My parents and the Longbottoms were the last victims of the first war, and they lost their lives on the same night as I got this scar. October 31^st, 1981. That was the end of the first war." He shook. "Now, on the other side of this memorial, we have victims of the second."

He led them around the white slab and tapped it. A name appeared.

Cedric Diggory.

"The Champion during the last Tournament?" Mike asked.

"That's right. Voldemort wanted my blood for use in his resurrection potion, but he had no use for Cedric." Potter's eyes grew dark.

Sirius Black.

"Black?" Elizabeth asked. "My grandmother was a Black..."

"Sirius was her cousin. And my godfather." Potter was now speaking hoarsely. Mike recognized the tone. His parents took it whenever the war came up.

Albus Dumbledore.

"The previous headmaster of Hogwarts," Potter said. "Killed during my sixth year."

Susan Bones.

"Is she related to--" Elizabeth began.

"Yes. Your mother's cousin. She was in my year, in Hufflepuff."

Charlie Weasley.

"My uncle?" Mike asked. Potter nodded.

Arthur Weasley.

"A Ministry official acting under the Imperius Curse deactivated wards in the Floo Network," Potter explained. "We were having Christmas dinner when Death Eaters just started coming out of the fireplace, throwing curses." He looked at Mike grimly. "Your father was injured." He shook his head. "I still don't understand why they would do it. All five Death Eaters were killed, and they obviously knew they would be--and they agreed to attack anyway."

Ginevra Weasley Potter.

"Aunt Ginny," Mike whispered. He noticed a tear streak out of Potter's eye. Their teacher looked at the stone a last time, and tapped it. A new name appeared.

Pansy Parkinson Malfoy.

Elizabeth shook. For some reason, Mike had the urge to hold her. He remembered how angry Elizabeth and Potter were at his father at the first task. He couldn't blame them.

"This stone," Potter said quietly, "is a reminder of what has happened--and what, if we aren't careful, might happen again. We must do all that we can to make sure that our friends, our children, and our relatives do not read our names on a future stone like this, and that we do not read theirs."

"Let's go," he said. Mike carefully placed his arm around Elizabeth and led her away. They were quiet until they got to the castle.

Potter turned to them. Mike spoke first. "I still don't understand why my father stopped being your friend--"

"It's a long and complicated story. I wanted to give you some background. We'll get back to it. But for now," he said, "I want you to look into it on your own. And don't forget, you do have a Triwizard Tournament task ahead, and you need to prepare. Good luck." With that, he strode off.

Elizabeth sighed. "Do you think he'll ever give us a straight answer?"

"Maybe... if we ask him a specific question."

"Yeah, maybe. Still no clue what to do with the staffs?"

"None whatsoever. Whack our opponents on their heads, maybe?"

She laughed. "If it's that, we're done for. The Krum twins will massacre everyone else."

"Right. But we'd better start looking. We have, what, a month and a half?"

"Plenty of time," Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, but it might take forever to do what we need."

She shrugged. "Let's meet tomorrow. Potter's lectures may be interesting, but they tire you out."

"Don't I know it. See you later."

"See you, Michael."

As he headed back to the Gryffindor common room, he forced a laugh at himself. He now had a second research topic on his hands. Thank you, Professor Potter.